Joe

Joe is roughly five years older than I.  I didn't have much to do with him when I was very little.  Almost all of my early memories are of my older sisters.  There was no rivalry between Joe and I, at least not in the traditional sibling rivalry sense, although in later years a kind of rivalry did manifest.  The rivalry existed between Joe, the alpha male, and Katherine, the alpha female.  I don't remember much except that these two would be after each other when Mom and Dad were out for the evening.  I remember one occasion on which Katherine was chasing Joe around the house with a chair from the swing set.  That nothing was broken is a miracle.  Joe was with Dad and me on some of our Uintah backpacking trips.  But the age gap between us meant that Joe had little interest in me.  When I was eleven or twelve Joe and I would play RISK! together.  He beat me time and time again.  I never gave up.  I began to play RISK! with my friends, and anyone who would give me the time.  Sometimes we played just Joe and I and sometimes the sisters would join in.  Those games took a lot of time to play.  The winner, it seemed to me, was the one who was lucky with the cards.  But eventually I gained the skills and beat Joe.  He never would play me again after that.
    On one occasion I was lying on the bed taking a nap when Joe came in, sat on my face and farted.  At some point Dad built a triple bunk for the boys.  Sam and Howard shared the bottom bunk which was less than a foot off of the floor.  Joe had the middle bunk--about three feet above that.  And I slept on the top.  One time I found Joe's wallet unattended.  It had about $8 in it (a lot for a kid back then).  I took the money and hid the wallet under Sam and Howard's pillows with the ID cards and other contents scattered around.  I was never suspected.  So, for $8 I let Joe fart in my face.  You could basically figure it like that.
   A few years previous to that--before the bunk--Joe woke in the morning in intense pain.  Mom and Dad couldn't find any cause or cure.  Joe was suffering more than I had ever witnessed before.  We knelt in prayer and asked Heavenly Father for help, and almost immediately Joe remembered that when he went to bed the night before something had bit him on the back.  He had squished it between his finger and thumb and tossed it across the room.  We looked where Joe indicated, and there was a squished black widow spider.  Mom and Dad took Joe to the hospital and got him the antidote.
   Joe had a girlfriend in high school.  I was just reaching the age where I thought Joe walked on water.  The girlfriend was classy and added to these thoughts.
   Some of Joe's friends were into marijuana.  I remember a time when Joe had to give me a ride--to some place I can't remember.  But I do remember the funny smell in the van accompanying his friends.  A few years later Joe invited me to come to a concert on the U of U campus.  Joints were certainly passing around that place.  I don't know how much into that Joe might have been, but when he turned 19 he served a mission to the Canada, Ontario Mission.  It was a great joke.  When the draft (for the Viet Nam War) was announced, Joe's number was something like 36--very low, which meant that he would be drafted--no doubt.  Joe was able to defer his selection for his two year mission.  Joe told his Liberal buddies (who knew what his draft number was) that he had discussed it with his father and with his bishop and stake president and they all agreed that he should skip the draft and go to Canada.  In those days a lot of war protestors went to Canada to avoid the draft.  By the time Joe's mission was over Nixon had ended our involvement in the Viet Nam War.
   I was very proud of Joe as a missionary and read a few of his letters home.  I think that Joe get married before my mission.  I don't remember without looking, I think so.  When Mom and I were newly weds we visited Joe and Lee in Spring City a few times.  Luisa and Zina were little girls at the time.
   Joe started his interest in pottery when he was in high school.  It was the hippy thing to do.  My cousins Scott and Mark Bennion were also into pottery, as well as other friends at Orem High.  Of all of these, only a couple seriously pursued pottery.  Joe is the only one to professionally pursue it.
    When Joe was in a class at BYU he had prepared several pieces for a show in which his pottery was to be showcased.  Joe had laid out all of the pieces he was considering on the living room rug.  The center piece was a porcelain plate that he had thrown.  The plate was exceptionally thin, desirable for plates.  Joe was very proud of it.  Eileen came into the room carrying a baby--probably Lucy.  She couldn't see the pottery on the floor and accidentally stepped on the prized plate breaking it to pieces.  Everyone was horrified.  When all was said and done, I learned that one exceptional piece does not make an artist.
   Joe has taken many opportunities to develop his craft.  Eventually he visited several countries including Latvia, Estonia, Russia, Japan, etc.  He has built his own wood burning kiln in Spring City and is world famous for his pottery.  Mom and I have a few pieces of Joe's work, but not much.  If you have the chance and the money to purchase pieces you should.  They will be highly prized in years to come.
    In the early days of his pottery career Joe and Lee were starving artists, taking various odd jobs to make ends meet.  Young artists cannot sell their wares for what they are worth.  It takes years of dedication to develop a following and to gain the respect necessary to ask a fair price for art.  Joe and Lee once bought and cleaned out an old chicken coop to make a studio for their art.  They worked as gas station attendants.  The worked at a local dairy.  Eventually they became self sufficient with their art.
   At some point Joe started running rivers for Tour West, which he still does to this day.  When John was a young teen Joe offered him a spot on a trip down the Green River (I think).  John didn't want to go at first.  I had a talk with John about the foolishness of exchanging a chance to run a river with his uncle and playing computer games at home.  John saw the wisdom and went with Joe.  Later Joe invited John to attend a sweat ( a ceremonial sweat bath in a sweat lodge built in Native American style).  I was glad that my brother reached out to my boy at a time when it was needed.
    I have not been able to spend the time with Joe that I would like.  Mother and I used to visit Joe and Lee and play cards.  But that was a long time ago.  We keep in touch via Facebook.
   I should also mention that my taste in music was greatly influenced by Joe, who wasn't into the "American Top 40" and Cassy Kasem.  The first ever record album I ever bought was Neil Young, After the Gold Rush.  Joe had the record, but I wanted my own.  Dad had a stereo in the living room and I used to put on the record at a very low level and listen to it as I drifted to sleep at night.  Eventually I would buy records by James Taylor, CSNY, and others that Joe liked.
    One other experience is worth telling.  Mom and Dad held a family reunion at Green Jacket.  Dad had farmed there for a while and owned about ten acres.  Everybody brought some kind of dutch oven dish that we cooked on location.  I made chicken cashew.  One oven cooked the rice, and the other the stir fry.  I was very proud of my creation, considering it an unusual dutch oven recipe.  But I couldn't get my father to so much as sniff my offering.  He was completely taken with some savory meat that Joe had prepared.  I felt like Jacob, whose brother Esau had his father's affection.  I felt like Cain, whose offering was rejected by the Lord.  This was the one point of rivalry that Joe and I played part in.  I was crushed.  Mother noticed and gave my cooking great praise, but she couldn't pull Dad away from Joe's bar-b-que.  Sometimes life is like that.
   That's a sad note to end on, so I'll mention how Joe spends time every month visiting the Native American inmates and the prison in San Pete County.  He preforms the sweat lodge ceremony for them and is accepted as a medicine man among them.  They in turn share sacred things with Joe.